


Lips Under the Mistletoe

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, Blowjobs, Christmas Eve, Christmas Party, Emotions, Finally getting together, Flirting, Happy Ending, M/M, Mistletoe, Modern Era, New Years, Table Sex, melancholy!Flint, only to fuck it up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29446635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Silver and Flint have a pattern at Jack's parties. Drink, flirt, go home alone, repeat.Only this time it's Christmas Eve and a sprig of mistletoe finally prompts Flint to do the very thing he's wanted to do for a long, long time.
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver
Comments: 9
Kudos: 70





	Lips Under the Mistletoe

"Just go talk to him." Eleanor says, a trace of impatience in her voice.

Flint finishes the mouthful of mini quiche he was chewing and swallows. "What's the point?"

"Because you keep staring at him."

Eleanor has a point, he has to admit.

They've been at the snack table for the past forty minutes because Flint came straight from work and is hungry and frankly he's not in the mood for a party until he's had a drink or two in him, and not even then really, if he's honest. He's especially not ready to talk to John Silver.

Silver's currently on the other side of the living room, chatting with some of Jack's friends. Flint knows them by sight, but as many social events Jack has coaxed him to attend in the past year, he still doesn't really know any of them. Except Silver. And he wouldn't say that he knows Silver exactly. Except he knows the way Silver stands when he's relaxed, or slightly uneasy, balancing lightly on his feet like he's ready to escape if he has to, He knows the small smile at the corner of Silver's mouth when he's amused, and the wide grin Silver gives when he's making a joke, and the slight smirk when he's being sarcastic.

He knows all this because they definitely have something going on between them, as Eleanor puts it, even though he doesn't want to admit, he can't deny it. That's why he comes to these parties after all. So he can watch Silver and maybe, talk to him.

* * *

Flint drives Silver crazy, the way he always does this, standing off to one side, like they've never spoken before, like there's somewhere better he has to be, and yet he's here, at this party in the same room with Silver, casually glancing at him over his drink every so often.

You'd think he'd be used to it by now, Silver reasons with himself. But, no, every time he wonders what it would take for Flint to just approach him directly. Why does everything have to be a sparring match?

"Because you started it." Anne says when he voices this aloud. She's eating the olives (three of them) from her martini, one by one, stabbing them with the toothpick and sliding them between her teeth. "You didn't say, "hey, wanna fuck?' when you could have and now you're stuck."

"Thanks." Silver takes a drink from his holiday nog and makes a face. "What does Jack put in this anyway?"

"Brandy. Lots of it."

"Mm." He takes another sip, glancing at Flint again who's glancing at him. "Typical."

"Just go over to him." Anne says, exasperated.

"Mm," Silver says again. "I am hungry." He rationalizes. It's truth, but he also knows he loses a point on the imaginary scoreboard they're keeping if he approached Flint first. But at the same time, he is hungry and that wins out.

The blond woman that Flint usually deigns to talk to at parties (yes, Silver notices who Flint talks to at parties and yes, he's jealous) walks off to get another drink when he comes up and surveys the table.

"Tart." Flint says out of nowhere. 

"Pardon?" Silver looks at him in surprise.

Flint clears his throat. "There's cherry tart over there. It's good."

"Is that why you're over here?" Silver asks as he examines the tart in question. "Because you like tart?"

"It's not the only reason." Flint says.

"Oh?" Silver takes a piece of tart and bites into it. It is good, he has to admit.

"There's also meatballs." Flint gestures. In spite of talking about all the food, he's only got a drink in his hands now. "They're not bad."

"So there are." Silver reaches for one and pops it neatly in his mouth. "Mm, that is delicious."

Flint's just watching him and Silver takes another one. "Didn't have time for dinner." He says, like he has to explain himself to Flint of all people. Silver knows it's more that he would like to explain himself to Flint if he had a chance. He's never really wanted that before and the thought scares him if he looks at it head on, but there's something about Flint that makes him want to be known by him. And honestly that's the most terrifying realization. Silver decides to have another meatball and not think about it.

"Neither did I." Flint says unexpectedly.

"Then how come the meatballs are still here?" Silver gestures with the one he's holding at the table.

Flint's lips twitch slightly. "Because I ate the sausage." He gestures to the other end of the table where there's a noticeable empty platter.

"You ate...all the sausage?" Silver can't help it.

Flint shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. He's not drinking eggnog. He's drinking something that looks like whiskey but Silver doesn't particularly like whiskey. The one time he tried it, he ended up spending the night throwing up in the toilets.

"Don't like the eggnog?" Flint nods to the still mostly glass in his hand.

"It's a bit..." Silver shrugs. "It's alcohol." He takes another sip.

* * *

Now that Silver's made the first move (Flint awards himself a point) Flint's abruptly at a loss. Usually he knows how these things go. One of them approaches the other, they flirt, there's innuendo and then the evening ends and they both go home. No one gets hurt, but no one gets kissed either. And Flint's found himself thinking about kissing Silver more than once lately. He blames it on the holiday spirit. That's his excuse and he's sticking to it.

He doesn't want the pattern to alter because if they do that, then something will have to shift and right now all Silver knows of him is conversation shared in a crowded room. He doesn't have any regrets yet, and neither does Flint and part of Flint wants to keep it like that.

But for some reason this Christmas he feels more festive than melancholy, and more daring than usual and if there are regrets afterwards, well, all he's lost is some flirting and bad puns about coq au vin. He'll survive that.

He clears his throat and all his momentum is lost as he sees Vane approaching the snack table.

"Hello, what have we got here?" Vane says, looking at the food and then at the two of them.

Silver swallows the fourth, or possibly fifth, meatball and says, "What's it look like?"

"It looks like you're eating all the meatballs because you're starving." Vane says easily. "If you were on a date with me, I wouldn't let you go hungry."

"We're not." Silver says while Flint says "He's not with me." Which is pointless because Vane knows that, or he must, because unfortunately (in Flint's opinion) he's a regular at Jack's parties.

Vane looks back and forth at them and shrugs. He takes a sip of wine and reaches for a meatball.

Silver, to Flint's intrigue, looks slightly flushed. Does that mean he'd like to be on a date with Flint? Or is he embarrassed by the notion? Probably the latter. Still he can't help being curious.

* * *

Silver rubs at the back of his neck, wishing Vane would fuck off. It's not as though he hasn't been tempted. At the first party of Jack's he ever attended, he'd enjoyed Vane's obvious interest, and then across the room he'd noticed an auburn haired man standing by a bookshelf, and well, that had been that.

He blinks to himself. That had not been that. That had been nothing. There's nothing between Flint and himself. There's no reason he shouldn't sleep with Vane, except... He glances at Flint again.

Flint's looking back at him with a curious expression and Silver feels his cheeks heating again. God, he wishes...

"I need another drink." Flint announces and leaves abruptly.

Silver watches him go with forlorn eyes.

"The two of you really are something." Vane murmurs as he eats a bacon wrapped olive and makes a face.

"What?"

"Just shag already." Vane claps him on the shoulder and strolls off.

Silver really doesn't know what to make of advice from Vane of all people. Or does that really count as advice? He's not sure. He eats a piece of cheese and measures how much alcohol he has left because he can't go get another drink right now or Flint will think he's following him.

He should probably just go home. Maybe he will, if he can sneak out without Anne noticing.

He downs the rest of the eggnog and sets the glass aside. His coat is on the rack in the hall and he stops, patting his pockets to make sure he has his phone when Flint appears from the room where the extra coats were put. He pauses abruptly at the sight of Silver.

"Leaving already?"

Silver nods at him. "So're you." Flint already has his coat and scarf on.

Flint shrugs, but doesn't say anything.

Silver hesitates and then starts to go past him to fetch his own coat, and then he sees Flint glance upwards and freeze. Silver follows his gaze to see a sprig of mistletoe fixed to the doorway over them. Right over them. They couldn't have planned it better, if it had been planned, which it hadn't.

Silver swallows, and looks at Flint.

Flint's gaze lowers to rest on him and there's that peculiar expression again. "They say it's tradition but." He shrugs again.

Silver nods. "Yeah, course it doesn't matter. Um, unless you're just bucking tradition for the sake of being individualistic."

Flint stares at him. "What?"

"It's fine." Silver says. "Not everyone likes holidays. It's fine if you-"

"Are you saying I won't follow tradition because I'm some kind of Scrooge?"

"Well if by following tradition you mean kiss me," Silver says. "Then yes."

Flint just stares at him. "I've never heard such utter ridiculousness." He's not as bad as Scrooge and is clearly rather offended that Silver thinks that. "You might as well have said I wouldn't do it because I was a coward."

"Well if the shoe fits." Silver says.

Flint raises an eyebrow. "Are you really calling me a coward?" He takes a step closer to Silver, his eyes narrowing.

"If you're afraid to kiss me then-"

"I never said I was afraid to kiss you." Flint's exasperation is more than apparent now.

Silver simply waits.

"Oh for fuck's sake." Flint says and reaches for him.

* * *

He cups the back of Silver's neck as easily as though he had been doing it all his life. His hand fits there and part of Flint just wants to stand there and recognize that. But the rest of him is focused on the matter at hand.

Silver breathes a little sigh as Flint lowers his head and then there's only silence as their lips meet and Flint could lose himself here if he's not careful. The way Silver leans into him, the softness of his lips and the feel of his tongue are all intoxicating. From the slight moan Silver offers against his lips, he thinks he's not alone in this.

Flint knows he should end this, cut it off before it goes too far, but instead he draws back, looking at Silver intently. "Your turn."

"What?" Silver says breathlessly, his eyes still half-lidded. When had he closed his eyes? Flint hadn't noticed; he'd closed his own instinctively.

"Are you afraid to come home with me?" Flint murmurs.

At that Silver's eyes widen. "Are you seriously asking me out on Christmas Eve?"

"I'm asking," Flint says, trying to keep his voice patient, "If you want to fuck." That's it. That's all he's asking and he doesn't really expect Silver to say yes either. But he doesn't have anything to lose at this point, so why not take the risk and ask?

Silver inhales slightly and then says, simply, "Yes."

For a moment Flint's frozen again, and then he shrugs. "Well come on then. We'd better leave before anyone notices." His eyes go to the mistletoe again.

* * *

Silver almost laughs. From the look on Flint's face, you'd think the mistletoe had personally offended him. And maybe it had, he reasons. after all it had gotten them to kiss. something that Flint clearly had no intention of doing anytime soon on his own. His lips had tasted like whiskey and Silver thinks maybe he does like whiskey after all.

He grabs his coat and scarf and follows Flint out the door.

The snow is still coming down as they walk along the pavement together. Silver can't help stealing glances at Flint as they go. He feels slightly light-headed, even though all he had had to drink was the egg-nog. He still can't quite believe this is truly happening.

Flint only lives a few streets over from Jack as it turns out, but it's long enough that Silver's shivering faintly as they finally reach a house in the middle of the street.

Flint opens the gate, leading way through the snow covered garden and up to the door. Silver blows on his hands as he unlocks the door and then thankfully they're inside.

Silver looks around while Flint turns on the lights. He'd expected the house to be divided up into flats, but it all looks like one abode from what he can see. "Do you have flatmates?"

"No." Flint says shortly. "There's just me." He nods at the coat rack and Silver hangs up his coat and scarf next to Flint's.

Flint leads the way down the hall and Silver follows him into a kitchen.

"Tea or coffee or whiskey?" Flint looks slightly at a loss now that they're here.

"Just you." Silver without thinking about it.

It seems to be the right thing to say.

Flint draws closer to him, and then slowly, cups Silver's face with his hands. He kisses Silver like he's drowning and probably Silver should be concerned about that, but all he can think about is how much he wants Flint. His hands press against Flint's sweater, pulling him closer and Flint draws a sharp breath.

"Table."

"Mmhm." Silver says.

Flint nudges him backwards towards the table behind them, blessedly clear of anything because next Flint pushes him down onto it and reaches for his belt. Silver just lets him, still half in disbelief that this is happening. Flint pulls his belt free and gets his jeans open and then he has his hand on Silver's cock, drawing him out.

And then to Silver's absolute amazement, Flint goes to his knees and lowers his head.

* * *

For the briefest moment Flint almost panics. It's been a while since he did (well, any of this but particularly this) and he's not sure how it's going to go. And then he hears the faintest hitch in Silver's breath as his hands touch Silver's thighs and everything comes rushing back.

Flint knows this; he's good at this and what's more, he's missed it. He savors all of it, from the way Silver's body goes lax under his hands to the way his cock tastes and responds. He wishes briefly that he had had the patience to get upstairs so he could have Silver in a bed but he didn't and here they are on the kitchen table. It's fine, Flint tells himself. It's better than fine.

He takes Silver deeper, briefly embarrassed at his need for more and then he can't feel any of that anymore, only the quick surge of desire within him has any space now. He doesn't care if Silver knows how much he's enjoying going down on him. It doesn't matter.

"Flint." Silver offers up his name soft and almost choked off his tongue as his hand comes to rest on Flint's hair. his fingers curl almost instinctively and Flint leans into it before he can stop himself.

Silver's grip tightens and Flint's fingers respond in kind, holding his hips, his thumbs pressing into Silver's skin. Silver's so close Flint can taste it, and he wants Silver to come here and now, on his tongue.

"I'm gonna-" Is all Silver has time for and then he comes and Flint holds his hips until they still and swallows all of it down, watching the way Silver's head falls back and his eyes close, his teeth biting his lip, holding himself back from crying aloud. Absurdly, Flint wishes Silver hadn't done that. He would have liked to hear him cry out and know that he had caused it.

Only once Silver is completely spent does Flint finally release him and sit back. His knees remind him of just how long he's been kneeling there on the floor and after a moment he has to get to his feet.

Once there he surveys the sight of Silver sprawled across his kitchen table and realizes that wasn't nearly enough for him.

Silver looks up at him half-lidded eyes. "Jesus christ."

"Was that enough?" Flint finds himself asking.

Silver's eyes open more fully at that. "No." He says. "You haven't fucked me yet."

* * *

For a second Silver thinks he's been too greedy. Maybe Flint only wanted this and now he expects him to leave. But he had asked and well, it's not enough for Silver if he's honest. Which granted, he's not always been the most truthful when it comes to intimacy with partners. It's always easier to tell someone what they're wanting to hear, than to admit it wasn't the best actually and could you be a little rougher instead? But here, he wants more. He wants Flint to take him upstairs and fuck him and if there's a chance he can still have that, he's not leaving till it happens.

Flint gazes at him impassively and then there's the most unexpected smile on his mouth. "Good." He leans in, placing a hand on either side of Silver, gazing down at him. "I wasn't finished with you yet." He glances downward where Silver's cock rests between them. "And I have every intention of fucking you until you come again."

Silver swallows hard. "Yes." He whispers. "Fuck yes."

Flint straightens up. "Come on then." He steps back and lets Silver slide off the table, pulling up his jeans and shorts as he does. Part of him thinks what's the point? He should just leave them off, but he's not quite bold enough for that. Not yet.

"Lead the way."

He follows Flint through the hallway again and up the stairs. Now that he knows Flint lives alone he's even more curious but something in the way Flint had answered about having no flatmates held him back from doing so.

Flint leads him to the first bedroom and switches on the light. He pauses inside the doorway and looks at Silver. "Sorry it's a bit colder up here. Sometimes the house takes longer to heat up."

"I'm sure we'll manage to keep warm." Silver murmurs.

He reaches for his shirt and starts unbuttoning it, eyes on Flint.

After a moment Flint follows suit and pulls his sweater off. Silver nearly has to stop undressing then because he can't take his eyes off Flint's shoulders, bare and freckled and glorious. He wonders what it'll feel like to touch them and then he sees Flint's tattoo, small and perfect on his shoulder, and he loses all concentration completely, tripping on the jeans half off him and landing on the carpet.

"Are you all right?" Flint sounds slightly concerned as he looks at Silver on the floor, half out of his jeans, half still in them.

"Mm, fine." Silver says awkwardly. He sits up and just tugs his jeans down, pulling his shoes off as well. He stands up again, slipping his shirt off, leaving only his shorts and socks on.

Flint shrugs. "All right." He steps out of his own trousers and sets them aside. His briefs are a deep navy blue and the line of his cock makes Silver's mouth water.

He licks his lips. "Can I..." He moves towards Flint, his hand outstretched slightly.

Flint gives him a slight nod as he watches him.

Silver stops right in front of him and simply presses his palm to Flint's cock. The heat there makes his own cock throb in response. Oh god, how he wants this. He wants it desperately. He strokes Flint through his briefs and sighs with pleasure.

Abruptly Flint's hand closes over his wrist, stopping him. Silver looks up, surprised, half afraid that he's done something wrong but Flint shakes his head.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to come." He says simply. "And I still want to fuck you."

"You and me both." Silver murmurs.

Reluctantly he takes his hand away and goes over to the bed.

He pulls his shorts off before he can think about it. He kicks off his socks as well before looking up at Flint again.

Flint who’s just standing there, gazing at him with his lips half parted. Lips that were on Silver’s dick not that long ago. It twitches a little at the memory.

“Lie down.” Flint murmurs as he removes his briefs. 

Silver does, watching him all the while.

Flint settles on the bed and slides down between his thighs, kissing his way across Silver’s taut stomach. His hands fit almost possessively to Silver’s hips as his lips burn their way across Silver's bare skin.

At last he lifts his head and opens the drawer at the bedside table and takes out a small container.

Silver draws a sharp breath as Flint eases his forefinger inside him. He can’t help the moan that escapes his lips, or the way his body wants to arch up into that touch, even if it’s only Flint’s fucking finger.

Flint curls it deeper and Silver moans again, almost panting at the electricity sparking through his body.

Finally Flint removes his finger and leans back. Silver can’t resist watching him as he positions himself between Silver’s thighs and then he has to look away as Flint enters him because it’s too much, it’s all embarrassingly too much. The way Flint moves inside him, the way his weight rests against Silver’s body. The way his cock feels. Silver wants to feel all of this forever. 

Silver closes his eyes and tries to hide the flood of lust and warmth and pure stupid emotion welling up inside him. It’s idiotic to feel this way simply about sex, but it’s Flint. That’s all he can think as Flint kisses him, still moving inside him, it’s Flint at last.

* * *

Afterwards Flint lies there in silence. Silver had fallen asleep somehow and now he’s alone with his thoughts. He knows that logically this is fine. it's realistic to move on, to be with other people but he had expected...well a sense of betrayal at the act. And now here he is and Silver is there and it seems natural. It's absurd how natural it seems and Flint doesn't know what to make of it. The absence of that expected feeling leaves him a loss.

Silver makes a soft murmuring sound under his breath and Flint looks at him. It would be easy to lie there beside him, put his arms around him and just stay. But he can't. Instead he slips out from between the sheets and dresses quickly.

He writes a note and leaves it on the bedside table before leaving the room.

* * *

Silver wakes in the wee hours of the morning. It takes him a moment to realize where he is. The curtain shielding the window is a heavy maroon color and the room is still mostly in shadow. He doesn't realize until he's turned over that he's alone.

Silver sits up and his eyes fall upon the note. He reaches for it. _Thank you for last night. You can see yourself out when you're ready. - F._

Silver reads it three times before he decides it's real. Unbelievable. He crumples the note up and throws it at the rubbish can in the corner.

He looks around the room, half tempted to stay exactly where he is until Flint comes back, but in the end, his pride won't let him. He gets out of bed and starts getting dressed.

Just as he finishes he notices the picture frame on the dresser. Silver goes over to it and looks a it. There's Flint, albeit a much younger Flint standing with a blonde man and a brunette woman. They're laughing at something and the blonde man has his arm around Flint's shoulder.

Silver gazes at the photograph for a long time and then leaves, reluctantly. He's not going to get any answers from simply staring at it.

The house is silent as he goes down the stairs. He's tempted to look for some kind of coffee or tea, but now the urge to leave before Flint returns grows stronger. He takes his coat and scarf from the rack and leaves, closing the door silently behind him.

* * *

_New Year's Eve_

"Are you going to be like this all night?" Anne asks over her martini.

"More than likely." Silver says. He doesn't know why he agreed to come tonight, except out of a perverse desire to see what Flint will do.

It's been one week since Flint abandoned him after their night together and Silver's still bitter about it. It's not as though he had expected Flint to get down on one knee and propose afterwards. He hadn't really thought about anything beyond the night. But he had expected to have some sort of 'this is just a one-off' or 'this doesn't mean anything' conversation, but instead there had simply been a void and he hadn't gotten a chance to act like it meant nothing to him as well. He'd been prepared for that part. It's unfair it didn't happen.

"Fantastic." Anne sticks her toothpick into her mouth and sucks the olive off it.

Silver ignores her and drinks his champagne with a morose air. "Why do you always talk to me at these parties? You've been coming to them as long as Jack's been throwing them."

"Because you don't care if I don't feel like making conversation and you don't hit on me and occasionally you can be entertaining." Anne finishes her martini. "Do you want another?"

"Please." Silver hands her his glass and leans back against the wall.

* * *

Outside, Flint checks his phone again to make sure he hasn't had any messages that would constitute a good excuse for not going upstairs to the party. Eleanor had made him promise to come and so he's here but he's not happy about it.

It's been a long week and Flint has spent every day between now and then trying to forget Christmas Eve and every day it's proven impossible. He finds himself thinking about Silver at odd hours of the day, just random thoughts of the way his mouth looks when he smiles or the way his hair had fallen over his shoulders when Flint had gone down on him, and then the way his body had fit so perfectly against Flint's...

Flint sighs and presses the buzzer. He'd hoped that Silver wouldn't come tonight but he sees his hopes have gone unfounded once he gets upstairs. He sees Silver in the corner talking to the redhead. Silver looks incredibly appealing, or maybe it's now that Flint knows what he looks like underneath the red and black checked shirt he's wearing, that he thinks that.

Flint hangs up his coat and scarf and looks around for Eleanor who he finds in an opposite corner, scrolling on her phone. He grabs a glass of champagne and goes over to her.

"Why am I here again?" Flint murmurs to her.

"Because otherwise you'd be alone in that drafty house of yours, feeling maudlin." Eleanor says without looking up.

Flint shrugs. "You make it sound like that's not a reasonable activity."

Eleanor shrugs back. "Sure, if you're seventy and you have nothing left but memories."

"Ouch." Flint takes a sip of champagne. _Don't look at Silver, don't look at Silver, don't look at Silver._

"I'm just saying." Eleanor looks at him. "Whatever happened between you two and I know something happened, don't try to deny it."

"Wasn't going to." Flint say, surprising himself and Eleanor with one breath.

Eleanor stares at him for exactly three seconds and then composes herself. "Right, see, something happened and now you're all..."

"All what?"

"Exactly like before." Eleanor sighs. "You should be excited about it happening again, or smug because it happened or complaining because it was the worst sex you've ever had."

"It wasn't-" Flint automatically starts and then cuts himself off.

Eleanor raises an eyebrow.

Flint sighs. "It wasn't the worst sex I've ever had." Is all he'll allow himself to say. It's truthful. It's not a lie. It's not the whole truth either, but he's not in court. He can keep some things to himself.

"I see." Which for Eleanor is a remarkably reserved comment.

Flint takes another drink of champagne and casually glances around the room.

* * *

Silver is doing a remarkable job of not looking at Flint but it's hard. If he pretends they've never slept together and Flint is just the attractive aloof man he's always been, then he's fine. But if Silver thinks about the freckles on his shoulders, then well, then it's all over. He doesn't want to think about Flint's freckles. He doesn't want to know they exist but now he does. Now he possesses the knowledge of them and it's too late to go back to how they were before. And even if he could, he's not sure he'd want to. Even with how it ended, that Christmas Eve had still been one of the best Christmas Eves he'd ever had. Of course it wasn't a particularly high bar, Silver concedes to himself.

Still. It had ended the way it did, and clearly Flint doesn't want anything more to do with him and that, Silver thinks, this time, really is that. He supposes he should be grateful it hadn't been strung out long after its time, until they both loathed each other. He knows couples who got to that point, some after one year, others after twenty and both options seem equally terrible. Silver's never been one to waste his time on the off chance that he could get trapped into staying with someone against his better judgement. It's always easier to cut and run.

But he still wants to know, partly why Flint took him home that night, and why he didn't have the courage to at least say, “fun fuck, let's never do it again, goodbye.”

Half an hour till midnight. He looks at his phone and he thinks about the way Flint had kissed him under the mistletoe. The situation had presented itself, and he'd encouraged it and the kissing had been accomplished. And what, Silver muses, is the purpose of a New Year's Party than to possibly start the year off kissing someone?

"What're you thinking about?" Anne asks suspiciously.

"Midnight." Silver finishes his martini and waves the glass at her. "Another."

"All right." She says, and then, almost as an afterthought. "It's just another year. Nothing special about it."

Maybe, Silver thinks, or maybe not. He goes to the bar where Jack is mixing drinks.

"Two more?" Jack inquires breezily. He's in a good mood tonight because the party is going well, and so far no one has started hinting that his playlist might be a little too twee for their tastes. It's his party; he gets to play whatever takes his fancy.

"Please." Silver watches him mix them, adding the extra three olives to Anne's automatically. His gaze drifts to the side of the room where Flint is standing by the windowsill. Why is it impossible to go over to him? There's nothing to prevent him and yet Silver is nearly sick at the thought. Of course, Flint is also prevented by nothing here. Flint's already chosen, already left once. There is nothing on the other side of the room for Silver and they both know it now.

He accepts the glasses from Jack with a muttered thanks.

"Tell Anne I'll see her shortly." Jack busies himself with the olive jar.

"What?"

"Midnight." Jack taps his watch as explanation. "Not going to miss the big moment, are you?"

And Silver realizes in that moment, he has no intention of doing that. Just because he can't kiss Flint doesn't stop him from kissing anyone else. In fact, rather the opposite.

He looks rather pointedly around the room this time and finds the man he's looking for.

* * * 

Flint's hand tightens around his glass as he watches Silver cross the room towards Vane. He's not sure what he'd expected Silver to do once they'd seen each other again.

But approaching Vane? That he hadn’t even imagined. After last time, Vane’s comments, he had wondered if Silver and Vane had ever…but then Silver had gone home with hm. Flint allows himself a small feeling of satisfaction. Which fades immediately as he’s reminded how that had ended. How he had chosen to end it. Who knows what would have happened if he had stayed? Perhaps he and Silver would have attended this party tonight together.

_And isn’t that possibility, that very chance of something more, between you, the reason you ran?_

He takes a sip of his whiskey and looks at Vane and Silver standing so close together. His jaw tightens. And then he realizes what time it is as Jack starts making the announcement for the new year and suddenly he knows why Silver went to Vane.

There’s nothing he can do but stand there and watch as the new year begins with Silver kissing Vane instead of him. As soon as he sees it happening, Flint knows that’s what he wanted. He had come to this party with the very slight, nearly subconscious hope that Silver would somehow magically forgive him for his mistake and that he would kiss him at midnight. That kiss would signify the beginning of something fresh, something Flint had been secretly hoping for in spite of himself, ever since he first met Silver.  
And now he’s fucked it up.

So the way he looks at it, he has two choices. He can act as though it doesn't matter, and he can finish his drink and wish Jack a happy new year and go home. Or he could talk to Silver. The first of theses two options is obviously the easier one by far. But Flint’s tired of taking the easier path tonight. For once he wonders what will happen if he does something that isn’t easy and careful.

* * *

Silver draws back, letting the warmth of Vane’s lips recede. It was a good kiss; he has to admit that. And the curve of Vane’s cock, apparent even from just pressing slightly against him just now, is more than a little attractive. He wonders what it would be like to let Vane take him tonight when over his shoulder, he sees Flint approaching.

“What?”’ Vane asks, curious. He turns his head, following Silver’s gaze.

“Can I have a word?” Flint’s tone is brusque. His eyes pass over Vane only briefly before resting on Silver. “In private.”

“Um…all right?” Silver says at last. He can’t think what Flint has to say to him but he has to admit he’s curious.

“I’ll be around when you’re done.” Vane says casually.

“Thanks.” Silver says, and then wonders what he’s supposed to be thanking Vane for? He follows Flint down the hall in a state of confusion, into Jack’s spare room.

Flint closes the door after him and clears his throat, but doesn’t say anything.

“Well?” Silver asks at last. He can hear the impatience in his voice but in his defense, he was in the middle of a potential hookup for the night and he interrupted it to listen to Flint who’s not saying a goddamn word even now that they’re here in private.

Flint clears his throat again. “You and Vane…are you…?” He raises an eyebrow. Like Silver’s supposed to infer what he means from that alone.

“I don’t know.” Silver says. “I suppose I’ll find out.”

Something akin to a shadow falls over Flint’s face. “Right.”

“What?” Silver demands. “What could that possibly matter in the slightest to you?”

“The thing is.” Flint says slowly. “Is that it does. Matter to me apparently.” He pauses and then scratches hesitantly at his beard. “I know after that night it might not feel like that to you, but if I could do it over, I wouldn’t leave.”

Silver stares at him wordlessly. He’s not sure what he would say if he could speak at this juncture.

“I made a mistake.” Flint says, his voice soft and low with the sincerity of the words pressing heavily into the silence between them. "I was being cowardly about what it would mean if we woke up that morning and I admitted what I had realized.”

“And what was that?” Silver manages.

“That I didn’t want you to leave.” Flint tells him.

“Oh.” Silver says.

“That what I truly wanted that morning,” Flint takes a step closer towards him. “Was to do this.” His hands settle on Silver’s hips, sliding up underneath his shirt, thumbs brushing his hipbones like they belonged on his skin.

Silver shivers in response, his whole body yearning for _more_ , whatever the hell his brain thinks he should do.

Flint lowers his head and kisses him. His mouth is entreating Silver for more as well and Silver’s helpless not to surrender to him. He leans up to meet Flint's hunger, pressing his body into Flint’s hands.

Flint murmurs something against his lips but Silver can’t hear him. His heart is hammering in his chest and he can’t think but he knows he wants this, he wants Flint. Somehow he must articulate that for the next thing he knows they’re stumbling towards the bed with the coats spread over it.

Silver lands on his back and Flint crawls over him, still kissing him, his hand reaching for Silver’s zipper.

“Oh fuck.” Silver groans as Flint takes him in hand. His head falls back and he stares at the ceiling of Jack’s spare room trying to focus. He fails utterly.

Flint strokes him base to tip and Silver arches into his hand with a gasp.

Flint teeth graze his lip as Silver pulls him closer and it’s all Silver can do not to come then and there.

* * *

“Unbelievable.”

They both freeze, Flint’s hand still down Silver’s jeans.

Jack’s standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, one on the doorjamb, staring at them. “Please, for the love of all that’s holy, tell me you’re not having sex on my guests’ coats.”

“Well.” Silver says. “No…”

“Not yet.” Flint murmurs.

Silver stares at him incredulously. The corner of Flint’s mouth twitches faintly and it’s all Silver can do not to start laughing.

“Well, please don’t.” Jack says firmly. “It’s unpardonably rude. I will give you exactly five minutes to make yourselves presentable and leave this room, or I will sic Anne on you.”

“We’re leaving.” Silver says hastily.

“See that you do.” Jack shuts the door. And then immediately opens it again to look at them with one eyebrow raised. “Does this mean what I take it to mean?”

“Jack.” Silver says helplessly. He can’t answer anything like that right now.

“Yes.” Flint says.

“Good.” Jack says. “It’s about time.” This time when he closes the door he stays gone.

Silver stares up at Flint. “So what does it mean?”

“It means.” Flint’s fingers brush over Silver’s cock, making him bite his lip. “That if you can forgive me for last time and give me a chance, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me how?” Silver wants this all on the table though what he really wants is Flint to continue what he had planned before Jack interrupted them.

“Taking you home.” Flint murmurs, “Fucking you slowly until you’ve had enough and beg me to let you come.” He wraps his hand loosely around Silver’s cock, letting the warmth of it seep into Silver’s hardened flesh.

Silver swallows tightly. “And then what?”

Flint’s eyes widen for a fraction and then he gets it, and his mouth twitches again. “Then I’ll make you come and in the morning I’ll do it again before I make you breakfast.”

“You won’t be gone in the morning.”

Flint shakes his head. “I give you my word.”

“All right.” Silver says. He would have dragged it out, wanting to see what else would Flint would tell him, but they’re already nearly at the end of the five minute mark and he’s really not ready to deal with Anne just yet.

“All right.” Flint says, taking his hand out of Silver’s jeans.

* * *

They leave the spare room just in time. Jack’s definitely watching them from across the room. Silver also catches sight of Vane.

“I…should speak to him.” He says. “I’ll be right back.”

Flint nods. He looks at Jack while Silver makes his way to Vane. Jack mouths _Text me_ to Flint and he shrugs and nods. At some point he will. In a way, he does have Jack to thank for this. If not for these parties, he never would have met Silver.

As he glances at Silver, Flint thinks that would have been a shame.

* * *

Silver comes up to Vane who’s drinking by the mantlepiece. “Ah…”

“You’re going home with him, aren’t you?” Vane says casually, like he half expected this development all along.

Silver nods, a little shamefaced. “About before…”

“It was a good start to the year.” Vane grins. “Enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks.” Silver says. “I think I will.”

He turns and goes back to where Flint’s waiting at the door.

* * *

This time Flint feels more certain as he leads Silver through the front door of his home. He leads Silver into the kitchen almost out of habit, a repeat of the previous time. He sees Silver glance at the table, and knows he’s remembering that night as well.

Flint clears his throat and reaches for the bottle of wine he chose earlier. “I owe you an explanation.” He pauses, wondering if Silver will tell him he doesn’t owe him anything, it seems to be the type of thing Silver would say.

Instead Silver leans against the table, waiting to hear what he says.

Flint pours them each a glass and hands one to Silver and then retreats to the other side of the kitchen again, leaning against the counter, mirroring Silver’s position. “Some years ago, I was in a relationship. It was…the single most important thing in my life and when it ended….it felt like the world ended as well.” He pauses again. “It sounds so simple when I say it like that, but it was devastating and it took me years to begin to live again. Eventually I did, and things slowly improved…and then…” he finds himself smiling involuntarily. “one night I went to a party at Jack’s and I saw you.”

Silver’s mouth twitches faintly. “Don’t tell me. One look at my beautiful blue eyes and you were lost?”

Flint chuckles. “Something like that.” He looks at the wine. “For a while it was enough to simply talk to you, and then….last week it wasn’t.”

Silver nods to himself. “And Christmas morning?”

Flint sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “It scared me…how natural it felt to be with you. And how much I didn’t want it to end.”

Silver takes a sip of wine and sets his glass down. “So what happens tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow…am I going to wake up and find you gone?”

Flint shakes his head. “No.” He says softly. “No, you won’t. I won't leave you alone tonight or tomorrow." 

He sets his own wine down and crosses the room to Silver. Slowly he takes Silver’s face in his hands, tilting it upwards to kiss his mouth. He smooths his thumbs over Silver’s cheekbones, watching as his eyelashes flutter closed. There’s a hitch in Silver’s breath as Flint’s lips meet his own.

* * *

There’s no sound in the kitchen save their mingled breath. As they finally draw apart Silver rests his forehead against Flint’s. “Upstairs…or here on the table again?”

Flint’s amusement is warm against his cheek. “As enjoyable as that was, upstairs I think.” His hands slide down to settle on Silver’s hips. “Time enough to fuck you on the table again tomorrow morning after breakfast.”

“Mmm I might hold you to that.” Silver looks up at him.

He wants this to last. The realization is so unexpected that for a moment it truly terrifies him, and he understands then why Flint had bolted last time. It is a terrifying thing to open your heart to someone.

  
As he follows Flint up the stairs, Silver can’t help wondering if it’s worth it, if the potential heartache and loss if it doesn’t last, will be worth the pain.

But as Flint pauses in the doorway to his bedroom and reaches down to cup Silver’s face in his hands, as his lips return to Silver’s mouth like waves meeting the shoreline, new and eternal somehow every time, he thinks it must be. Whatever happens between them will be worth it. And his heart wants it to last, so he wills that to happen as the bedroom door closes behind them and Flint kisses him once more.


End file.
